


Seeking Solace

by OdinAyelia



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-08-29 14:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16745440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OdinAyelia/pseuds/OdinAyelia
Summary: After Hawke's death, Fenris joins the Inquisition, and Ellana Lavellan finds herself caught between an elf and a hard place.This is a short series I just had to play with. Mostly Lavellan/Solas, Lavellan/Fenris angst





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> An introduction, and Lavellan meets Fenris and they get shitfaced <3

Skyhold was nothing short of a magnificent place, even though it was abandoned and decrepit, dusty and deserted. After what had happened at Haven, the Inquisition was, at best, in shambles, so finding a new base—a new hope—was a gift sent from Mythal, the All-Mother.

Of course, I couldn’t say that aloud. If Cassandra heard me uttering the names of Elven goddesses instead of the Maker or Andraste, she’d probably lose her head, and I didn’t want to see what happened when the Seeker truly lost her patience. She was hot-headed enough as it was.

We’d been given a chance to rebuild after Corypheus’s attack on Haven, and I’d been named Inquisitor, a position I still wasn’t sure I wanted, or was ready for. I was just a Dalish, a First who’d fallen into the dark plot of an ancient Tevinter Magister. I didn’t know how to lead an army, let alone an entire resistance. Thankfully, I had the best of advisors—Cassandra, of course; Leliana the spymistress; Cullen, an ex-Templar who’d witnessed the darkest of humanity when Kirkwall’s circle was destroyed, Josephine, who made diplomatic relations look like an art, and Varric, of course, the famous Dwarf novelist who’d come to be my confidante and friend.

And then there was Solas.

Even thinking about him sent a giant _sigh_ through my body. Solas was the one who found Skyhold, and it had always felt like a gift from him, even though he obviously didn’t own the giant castle in the mountains. He’d been the only other elf in the Inquisition (except for Sera, who, let’s face it, would rather not even be an elf if she had the choice), and so I’d felt an immediate kinship with him, even if he didn’t feel that with the Dalish. Or the City Elves, for that matter.

As everyone found their places within Skyhold, Solas had chosen the giant, domed room under the library as his domain, where he’d begun painting a stunning fresco of the Inquisition’s accomplishments. We’d already talked away many a night in there, with him telling me stories of his adventures in the Fade.

At first I’d thought of him as a mentor, like a Keeper. He was older than me, and had an almost spooky knowledge of history that belied his age. I’d hoped to learn more about the glowing anchor in my hand, and Rift magic, and the Fade.

And then, things shifted. I began to notice the keen, excited look in his eyes whenever he told a story, the strong, proud way he held himself, his prowess on the battlefield, the gentle rippling of his neck muscles poking out of his robes. I began to notice the supple curve of his lips when he smiled, and the way he looked at me began to feel chilling, and exciting, to the point where I craved it when I woke up in the morning.

He was a secret I kept, maybe even to myself. The older man who made me feel like a goddess. I’d heard a few whispers among my people, but they had never guessed the truth about it. They knew I often visited him, and how we would sit and talk long into the night, but no one knew how I watched him as he painted, or how I longed for him when I went to bed alone. The only one who’d come close to it was Dorian, who’d caught me stealing a glance from the library as Solas had removed his shirt during a particularly intense painting session. I’d been admiring his firm-looking, lean muscles, and hadn’t even noticed I’d stopped talking.

“Ellana, do you have something you want to tell me?” he’d said, breaking me from my thoughts.

“Hmm?” I’d replied, playing dumb.

“Somebody’s hot for teacher,” he said, raising an eyebrow pointedly.

I’d just about died from embarrassment right there, but managed to catch myself. “Am I not allowed to admire? I’ve caught you stealing plenty of glances of Bull,” I pointed out.

Dorian had raised a finger, his own cheeks flushing pink. “Ah, in that you’re correct. Let’s not speak of it any further. We’re all allowed our fantasies.”

Was that it? Did I fantasize about Solas?

It wasn’t until that fateful night that I realized how doomed I really was in all this. I’d made a few flirtatious comments here and there, testing the waters, and Solas had played along, though not to the extent I’d hoped for. It was like he was keeping me at arms’ length. But then he brought me to Haven, and told me of how he’d come to the Inquisition, how he found me.

_And right then, I felt the whole world change. You changed…everything._

I kissed him, then, quickly and chastely, so worried he would push me away, but then he shook his head and reached out for me, placing his hand on the small of my back and pulling me close, kissing me back hard.

His lips felt like velvet as he pressed them against mine, and waves of magic flowed through me, him, us. I could feel his energy intertwining with mine, our auras wrapping around each other. Then, he backed away from me, and my lips immediately yearned for his.

“No. It’s not right, not even here,” he said.

And then I realized we weren’t really in Haven, after all. Haven had been destroyed. We were in the Fade. We were dreaming.

I woke up in a cold sweat. My body trembling. What had he done to me? I’d never felt so sexy and yet so inadequate at the same time. When I approached him, in the real world, this time, he basically told me it was a mistake, that it would lead to trouble. I tried my hardest not to pout like a wounded Fennec, but it hurt, to be rejected like that.

And so I welcomed the challenge when Varric told us he had a way to reach his old friend, the Champion of Kirkwall, Marian Hawke. I needed a distraction from Solas, from thinking about that kiss. I got it.

After fighting our way through Adamant, dealing with mad Grey Wardens binding themselves to demons, I inadvertently opened a Rift, and we entered the Fade physically. What followed was a strange nightmare as we worked our way through the Fade, guided by a Spirit with the form of Divine Justinia, which all resulted in Hawke staying behind to fight so that we could escape and live.

Varric was crushed. I’d never felt so heartbroken as I did having to tell him his closest friend hadn’t made it. We returned to Skyhold crestfallen and broken. Varric needed to be alone for a while, and even though we’d all experienced something truly life-changing, none of us wanted to talk about it because of the loss of Marian Hawke.

But that first night back, I didn’t want to be alone. I tossed and turned in my bed, unable to fall asleep. So I got dressed and headed to the tavern for a drink. I expected it to be empty, this late at night, but there were quite a few soldiers and mages there, drinking ale and playing Wicked Grace.

I sat at the bar and asked for a bottle of wine, ignoring the inquiring gazes of the rest of the room. I rarely came to the Tavern. I must have been a curiosity.

“A whole bottle, hmm?” a deep voice sounded across the bar.

I looked over to see an elf unlike I’d ever seen before. He was tall and big, muscular and strong, with shaggy silver hair and a serious, piercing gaze. His body looked like it was covered in vallaslin that…glowed. I realized this must be Fenris, Hawke’s lover. I’d heard of him, an escaped Tevinter slave injected with Lyrium.

“I think I need it tonight,” I replied.

If I thought I’d felt guilty about Varric, it didn’t compare to how I felt now. Fenris looked like a wreck. His eyes were hollow and dark, and his gaze was distant. How must it feel to lose the person you’d chosen to follow forever?

“I think I need some, too. Can I drink with you?” he asked. It surprised me. I’d always heard Fenris was a bit of a loner, at least from Varric. I nodded, and he sauntered over to sit beside me. I was entranced by his presence, now that he was so close. The Lyrium glow was hypnotizing, and he had an earthy, musky scent that reminded me of the ocean.

“I’m sorry,” I said, after pouring a drink for us both.

“Why would you say that?” he replied gruffly, downing his wine in one long sip.

“About…Hawke,” I replied, pouring him another. I couldn’t begrudge him this, and I followed his lead, swiftly downing my first glass, cringing through the taste. We didn’t have the best wine in the Inquisition, it turned out. At least not what we served the soldiers.

He chuckled sardonically, and I couldn’t help but find him charming, even in grief. He was handsome, and his gruffness was oddly attractive. “I appreciate the sentiment, but it’s not your fault. Marian was her own woman. Nobody could have stopped her from doing what she wanted to do. Not you, not even me. She made a sacrifice. We should honor it,” he said. He held up his glass, and I followed suit, clinking mine against his before taking another long, bitter drink.

“Thank you, for saying that,” I said. “I’ve never felt so much guilt before.” Oh no, the wine was making me more abrupt than usual. I blushed, but Fenris didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s a useless emotion, and superficial. Like one person could ever be in control of this world enough to decide one’s fate.”

I nodded, nibbling on my lip. Even though the way he went about it was about as smooth as shattered glass, he made sense.

We fell into a natural conversation as we drank, though I wouldn’t call it smooth or effortless. Fenris was opinionated, and he wasn’t afraid to share his thoughts, even to me, the Inquisitor. It was refreshing to me. So many of my people treated me like I was some kind of martyr—Andraste’s chosen—and so it was rare for me to make an actual connection with someone.

This was different.

Two bottles later, we were deep into a discussion about the dangers of magic. Fenris wouldn’t budge, which was understandable, considering where he’d come from. If I were enslaved and abused by Tevinter Magisters, I’d probably hate magic, too.

“I don’t completely agree, Fenris. I think a mage can absolutely control themselves, it’s all about what they’re using magic for,” I said.

He quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t believe any mage to be beyond corruption? Tell me, you’ve met Corypheus, do you believe he thinks he is using magic for the right reasons, or the wrong reasons? How do we define what is the right reason to use magic?” he replied.

I squished my face at him. I’d had far too much wine for this conversation, but I wanted to finish my thought, to get my point across. “I wouldn’t say I believe in…absolutes, good and evil, like that, but I know the allure of dark magic. I know how it feels for it to taunt you, and I know how it feels to ignore it. I think any mage who crosses that line knows what they’re doing,” I said.

“Maybe, Inquisitor, maybe,” he replied, his tone long and deep and drawn out.

“Don’t call me that,” I quipped.

He tilted his head, like a cat examining their prey. “Don’t call you what? Inquisitor? Isn’t that your title?”

I looked around to make sure no one was listening in too closely. It was late, and most of the others had left long ago. Even the barkeep looked like he was about to fall asleep as he cleaned glasses. “It’s a title, but it’s not me. I don’t…like it,” I admitted in a whisper.

“What would be more befitting to you?” Fenris asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, after thinking about it for a moment, “I’ve been so busy trying to be the person everyone wants me to be, I think I’ve lost sight of who I really am.”

Why was I being so honest? It was like my thoughts were just pouring out through my mouth. I blushed what I imagined was intensely, but Fenris seemed to take it all in stride. For the first time, he grinned.

“We were worried, when we first heard about this Inquisition. Marian thought it was another rebellion, another chance for disaster to strike, but then Varric told us he was involved, and that the Inquisitor was…special, I think that was the word he used. I think he’s right. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to stay here, lend my sword to the Inquisition, so to speak. I need to keep myself occupied after everything, and even though you’re a mage, I think you’ve created something powerful here,” he said.

I nodded, suddenly sobered by such a prospect. I held up my arm in the Inquisition salute, even though it was a little shaky. “The Inquisition would be happy to have you, Fenris,” I replied.

He nodded curtly, took the last swig of his drink, then stood up to leave. “Until next time, Ellana,” he said.

I watched him leave, his Lyrium glow outlining his body as he marched back to the castle guest quarters.

I turned back to the bar, felt the room spinning, and decided to call it a night before I got sick.

I didn’t have nightmares that night. Instead, I dreamed of a golden Halla running through the Dales.


	2. Two: All New, Faded for Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavellan wants more from Solas, and gets her first taste of his ghosting abilities

When Solas came to me a few days later with an urgent plea to help his friend, I agreed without hesitation. It was the first time I had ever seen him look…vulnerable, and the smile he bore after I’d agreed to help sent a trickle of energy through my body.

The state of Skyhold had been gradually improving, with the mourning period mostly through as we focused on our next steps, namely a ball being held at Halamshiral that I needed a lot of preparation for. Fenris had fit himself into the Inquisition neatly, claiming an overgrown room on the walls of the hold. I hadn’t dared visited him again. I was still too embarrassed that I’d spent my first impression of him drunk off my ass.

But now a new task was in front of me, to save a friend of Solas’s.

We traveled to the Exalted Plains, a place both fascinating and terrifying for me. There was a group of Dalish near where Solas was taking us, and just being in the camp was enough to make me homesick. As much as the Inquisition had taken over my life, I still missed the quiet life I used to lead, hunting and foraging meals, reciting the history of our People over campfire, learning the patterns of Vallaslin.

I felt both Dalish and Shemlen as we passed the camp on our way to our mission. The Dalish had acknowledged me as one of the People, and yet, they kept me at arms’ length, refusing to trade until I’d gained enough favor, refusing to meet my gaze as an equal.

Had I forsaken my people when I’d become Inquisitor?

I couldn’t ruminate on it for long, as we soon came upon a group of mages setting up a summoning circle. My stomach plummeted. Solas had explained to me that his friend was a Spirit quite happily living in the Fade, but if this group succeeded in summoning, it would be warped into a Demon.

And we couldn’t let a Demon survive.

We were too late to stop them. The Demon stood in the center of the circle, so disfigured and angry. And Solas was angrier. He screamed at the mages who’d done this, and I felt myself growing angry, too. These men had thought nothing of the consequences of their actions. They had only sought their own agendas.

I knew the others would disapprove, but I decided to break the summoning circle instead of killing the Demon. Then, it could return to its natural state, and be free of its shackles. My heart broke as I watched Solas comfort the spirit as it dispersed back into the Fade.

He left me, after it was all over. Well, left _us_ , left the party, but I felt it in my heart so much harder than I should have. I felt foolish as we traveled back to Skyhold without him. I’d lost control of myself today, more concerned with Solas’s feelings than the logic of the situation.

He stirred in me emotions I’d never experienced before, and not just lust, but a sense of duty, an earnestness to gain his approval, at whatever cost, and a dragging emptiness whenever I felt his rejection. And so, I took my anger out in the field, hunting down Venatori with Dorian, decimating Fade Rifts, whatever I could do to distract myself from him.

But when I returned to Skyhold as the sun had just finished setting, I found myself magnetically drawn toward to vestibule where I knew he would be.

He was standing beneath his latest panel of the fresco, analyzing the drying paint. I cleared my throat to signal my entrance, and when he whirled around, his expression quickly turned from annoyance to a soft, curious apology.

“You scared me, when you left today,” I said, keeping my voice down so it wouldn’t echo.

He walked toward me, closing the gap between us. “I apologize. That was never my intention. I was filled with so much rage, I…I didn’t want you to see me like that. I left that part of myself a long time ago,” he explained.

I heaved a deep sigh. So badly I wanted to press my body into his, to feel his lips against mine. “I understand,” was all I said.

We stood in a contemplative silence, me trying to find the urge to tell him how I felt, while he watched me curiously. His gaze made my skin tingle with heat. It was infuriating. Why couldn’t I be a normal person around him? Just knowing he was watching me send my mind into daydreams, imagining him undressing me in his mind.

“Is there something on your mind, Inquisitor?” he asked.

I glared at him. “I’ve asked you not to call me that,” I said.

He nodded, and was that a smirk on his lips? “Of course, Da’len. Are you upset with me?”

I bit my lip, letting my gaze meet his. His eyes were so kind, so gentle, and yet there was mischief there, just below the surface. “It hurt when you left. For a moment, I didn’t know if you would be back, and that…ugh, it sounds stupid when I say it aloud,” I said.

He moved closer to me, and I was overcome by the feeling of his aura, his magic, the deep, Sylvanwood smell of him. “I’m sorry to have caused you stress. Rest assured, there is no place I would rather be than here,” he said.

My arms wrapped themselves around him without my permission, but I didn’t mind. I gripped his shirt with my hands and looked up at him. “Solas, I—”

And then he kissed me, fast and forceful, so different from his kiss in the Fade. His magic touched mine, and my body trembled as I pressed my lips into his, feeling enveloped by him as he stood over me.

I felt suddenly ravenous, wanting to pull of his robes, to touch his bare skin. I could feel his want, as well, and as he pressed me against the wall, I let out a small moan.

Everything about him felt so good, so delicious and filling. As he kissed me, he let his hands study my body, draping them over my curves, my waist, my hips.

“Come to my quarters,” I said breathlessly, before kissing him again.

But the sound of my voice changed him, and his body went rigid as he pulled away from me. His eyes held something akin to sorrow, and as he moved away, I could feel the absence of his presence as though my own magic had been taken from me.

“I’m sorry, we just…can’t,” he said.

“What? Why?” was all I could say.

I wanted this. It was clear he wanted this, too. So what was the issue?

“There are things I cannot yet explain, and I know that’s not satisfactory for you, and for that I am sorry. Would that I could join you in your bed, but it isn’t right. It’ll be better in the long run, this way,” he explained.

My heart felt like it was about to explode. “I’m sorry if I’m not good enough for you,” I whispered.

He shook his head, almost violently. “No, Da’len, that isn’t it at all. I…there are no words I can say to make this easier. You are the Inquisitor. We need to focus on our cause. That is all,” he said.

“You’re right,” I replied, though I was lying through my teeth.  “We should focus on the task at hand. I’ll leave you to your work.”

I left the room, not looking back. I knew the expression I would find on his face, and I couldn’t handle the fact that he wouldn’t accept me, whatever reason he was trying to build.

 

When I dreamed, I was the Halla again, this time frolicking through the woods, only with a dark wolf at my side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: What do you get in a party with a dwarf, a former-slave, and a Tevinter?


	3. A Refreshing Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana takes Fenris on a mission, and they find a way to sort out their frustrations...together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is something I just needed to get out ^.^

I avoided Solas after he rejected me, choosing not to bring him on my next mission. Dorian suspected something was up, but he didn’t ask for details, simply offered his support as we ate breakfast on my terrace.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You saw everything, didn’t you?” I asked.

He nodded. “Every second of it. Riveting entertainment, I must say,” he said.

I sighed and placed my head against the table. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Hey, Ellana,” Dorian said, gesturing for me to look into his eyes. “He’s a fool for turning you down, whatever his reason. Don’t dwell on it, you did nothing wrong.”

I could kiss him. “Thank you, Dorian,” I said.

“Now, let’s never speak of this again. Tell me more about this Fenris,” he continued, sipping his Tevinter-imported coffee. It was thick and sludgy, and I could only drink it with a bit of Embrium in it.

I thought about our newest recruit. I had planned to bring him with us on our next outing to see what he was capable of. “Well, this might be interesting, actually, because he was kind of…enslaved by Tevinter Magisters,” I said, only now realizing how awkward this party could be.

Dorian raised his eyebrows. “Is that all? Well, if it’s only something trivial, I’m sure we’ll get along like Fennecs.”

“Should I change the party?” I asked. I didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable, after all.

But Dorian shook his head. “Nonsense. We’re all here for the same goal. I have always been against the very notion of slavery, and I’ll tell him as such if the topic comes up.”

His confidence made me feel better, and I planned the rest of our mission with little anxiety.

 

I was wrong. So, completely wrong. Not five minutes onto the road to the Hinterlands, Fenris spouted, “I didn’t think the Inquisition was in support of Tevinter Slavery,” and a shudder of anxiety ran through my body.

Thankfully, I’d brought Varric with us to smooth it all over, and he stepped in right before Dorian turned his body aggressively toward Fenris.

“Hey, Broody, normally I’d be with you on this one, but I gotta say, Dorian isn’t your usual Tevinter,” he said.

Fenris backed down, though he still wore a scowl on his face. I looked at Dorian, hoping my begging expression wasn’t overly apparent.

Dorian sighed, but obliged me. “I promise you with everything I am that I have lived my life violently opposed to slavery. In fact, it was part of the reason I came here. I may be Tevinter, but I promise you, I am no monster. Should we all bear the crosses of how we were born?” he said.

Okay, it was something.

Fenris let out a breath, then surprisingly, bowed his head. “I’m sorry for my…aggression. It has been a trying time. If Ellana trusts you, then I should trust you as well,” he said.

Varric looked over to me, mouthing “what the fuck?” But I just shrugged.

We trudged on through the Hinterlands, and as we tore down bands of Red Templars, the energy of the group settled. Fenris and Varric caught up, swapping stories of their adventures since Kirkwall.

Varric regaled our recent quests, while Fenris filled Varric in on what he and Hawke had been up to, until…the Fade. Everything seemed to be falling into place, and when we set up camp that night, Varric brought out a special bottle of whiskey.

“I was saving this for when Hawke came out of hiding. I think she’d want us to drink it,” he said somberly when he brought it out.

We all sat around the fire, the warmth relaxing my tense muscles. Varric poured us each a glass, then placed the bottle on a nearby stump. He held up his glass.

“To old friends, new friends, and to kicking Corypheus’s ass,” he declared.

“Here, here!” I called out, raising my glass before tipping it back. Just about immediately, a vilolent cough took over my body. Gods, this shit was _strong_.

Dorian grinned at me. “It seems our Inquisitor is a lightweight,” he mused.

“You might be surprised, Tevinter. Just days ago I watched her down nearly three bottles of vintage,” Fenris chirped in. I flashed him a look of mock betrayal, and he sent me back a smirk.

“Three bottles, hmm? Is this the new standard Inquisition welcome?” Dorian teased.

“I haven’t seen her drink that much , even during a long game of Wicked Grace. Maybe she’s got a secret,” Varric joined in.

“I am right here!” I shouted, waving my arms. “Is it so scandalous that I have a drink every now and then?”

The three of them looked at each other, then at me, and then burst into collective laughter.

I took another drink.

“How often do you play Wicked Grace, Dwarf?” Fenris asked Varric once their little joke had subsided.

“As often as possible, but not often enough. Are you up for a game?” Varric replied.

Fenris stretched out his legs, his arms reaching behind his head, showing off his muscled physique. Both Dorian and I stared for a little bit too long. “Only if you’re ready to lose,” he taunted.

Varric let out a soft chuckle, a grin on his lips.

“This is going to be quite the night,” Dorian remarked, eyebrows raised.

And so we played. It felt…liberating to be laughing and joking, drinking and playing cards as though there was never a hole in the sky or an ancient, corrupted Magister threatening to destroy the world.

Dorian was the first to retire once he’d lost everything, or at least everything he was willing to bet, and much to Varric’s chagrin, his all-in against my hand didn’t go his way, and he sulked to his tent, muttering something about _elven wiles_.

That left me and Fenris alone with the crackling fire, the moon glowing off his Lyrium.

“Should we continue playing, or would you like to concede?” he asked.

I feigned a shocked gasp. “Do you think so low of my skills?”

He shook his head, a wry grin on his lips as he shuffled the cards. “You’ve surprised me,” he said.

“How so?”

“I’ll admit I haven’t had the best of relations with the Dalish. I have a natural proclivity against magic. I assumed you would be the same as those I’ve met, a bit stuck up, overly focused on magic and the discovery of the next door to open. But you’re different. You’re cautious, careful, and you play a mean game of Wicked Grace,” he said.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “How can you tell so much about me? We’ve barely met.”

He dealt the next hand, giving me a lovely set of cards that I tried not to give away with my expression. “You learn to read people, when you travel like me. I don’t stay in one place too long,” he said.

“So what’s next for you, after all this?” I asked. I raised the bet just a little, hoping he wouldn’t be able to read me.

His lips twitched as he pondered, and I found myself admiring the lines on his face, the way his eyes focused as he spoke, the intense gaze on his face. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I’ve got to see how this all plays out, and then go from there. Maybe I’ll go somewhere new,” he said.

“I can’t even think of an ‘after the Inquisition.’ What would I do with myself?” I wondered aloud.

“I have a feeling a woman like you will find her way to high places,” Fenris remarked.

I wanted to ask him what he meant by “a woman like me” as I stood up to pour myself another drink, but I tripped over a root and fell face-first under his feet.

I groaned as I brushed myself off, and Fenris reached down to grab my arms, pulling me off the ground with ease. And then I was kneeling before him as he leaned over, our faces so close, I could smell the Lyrium on his skin.

Fenris didn’t hesitate, he just kissed me hard, pulling me toward him so I was straddled over his lap. He bit my lip teasingly, his strong hands tracing my waistline. I moved my hands around his chin, lightly rubbing my thumbs up and down his skin, eliciting soft moans from him.

I wrapped my legs around him, pushing myself onto him, feeling him harden against me. We were both breathing hard, loud, and the crackle of the fire reminded me exactly where we were, out in the open, where anyone could see us.

“Come to my tent,” I moaned, and for a moment, I was afraid he would turn me down, just as Solas had done the night before, but Fenris had no reservations about what we were doing.

He placed his hands under my thighs, lifting me up as he stood and carrying me to my tent. He pushed through the flaps and lightly dropped me on the soft cot, holding himself on top of me as he kissed me deeper. I lifted my hips into him to feel him against me, gasping as he ran his hand along my body, grabbing my breast, kissing my neck.

We tore each other’s clothes off, hungry for our skin to touch. I kept my fingers gentle as I traced over his arms, his chest. I could tell he was sensitive, that everything he felt was augmented by the Lyrium, but he didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he was the one pushing harder.

I placed my hands on his chest, dragging them slowly lower, until they were just below his waist. He pulled back for a moment, looking me in the eye.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

I nodded vigorously. In this moment, I wanted nothing else but to feel him against me, to feel him inside me. I pushed him over until he was on his back and I was on top of him, and I lowered myself slowly until he was inside me.

I struggled not to moan loudly as I rode him, the feeling of his Lyrium-infused skin pulsing against mine. It was almost—almost—like magic.

He sat himself up, pressing my legs together behind him and lifting his body so he could fuck me just as hard as I was, and I bit into his shoulder as I came, a thousand pulsating flashes rolling through me. His hands clenched my skin as he finished, and he let out a deep, low groan.

We lay together for a time, regaining our breath, our sweaty bodies sticking together. The fire crackled outside, but that was the only sound. I hoped beyond anything that the whiskey haze had sent both Varric and Dorian into deep sleeps.

“That was…” I began…

“Surprising,” Fenris finished, “but refreshing.”

Somehow without speaking, we both knew what this was. As soon as our breathing had returned to normal, Fenris gathered his clothes and retreated to his own tent, leaving me alone in my bedroll, with only the memory of his heat.

Surprising and refreshing was spot-on, and just the thought of what we’d just done sent shivers through me.

But as I drifted off to sleep, I wasn’t thinking about the brooding, mysterious elf I’d just slept with.

I was thinking of Solas, and the lilt of his voice as he told stories of the Fade sent me drifting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Oh Solas, why must you be the way you are?


	4. God of Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana travels to the Temple of Dirthamen with Solas and Fenris, and Solas becomes a little...jealous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this around people and was blushing hard the whole time! ^^

We returned to Skyhold without any hint to what had happened between Fenris and me, and there was a sense of satisfaction in that, for me, that we had both helped each other scratch an itch, and that nothing more need be done about it. It wasn’t something I had ever done before—I spent most of my adult life entrenched in my studies and magic—but I didn’t feel any remorse for it, either. It was not our way, at least within my clan. Sex was treated as a healthy part of interaction. There was no shame like I’d seen among the Shemlen.

A few nights later as I made my final rounds on my way to my quarters, Josephine was waiting for me, patiently scribbling away at her notes in her office.

“Ah, Inquisitor,” she said as I entered the room, overcome by the rich and dusty smell of the books she kept stacked throughout.

I gave her a slight side-eye at the title, but knew inside that it would be pretty much at odds with Josephine’s inner constitution to call me anything but what was _proper_. I sat down in one of the large, overstuffed chairs by her desk, leaning my staff against the wall. “What can I do for you, Josie?” I asked.

Excitement lit up her gaze, and she smiled as she unfurled before me. “We have made an interesting discovery. Those glyphs you found in the Exalted Plains have led us to the Lost Temple of Dirthamen. I’m sure I don’t need to explain to you how exciting this is,” she babbled.

She didn’t. Dirthamen was the Dalish god of secrets, the twin of Falon’Din. I’d heard rumors of such a temple existing, but it was purely legend. Actually finding something that might shine more light on my heritage was incredible.

“That’s fantastic,” I told her, “I’ll assemble a group tomorrow.”

Just as I was about to leave, she caught my attention with her hand. “I would suggest you bring a diverse party. You may need the skills of various members. And bring Solas, of course,” she said.

My stomach sank. I didn’t know if I was ready to see Solas, even though I knew I needed to bring him. His knowledge and insight had no parallel. But the thought of him still sent a bittersweet taste through my mouth.

“I’ll do that. Thank you, Josie,” I said before leaving for my quarters. I could attend to this in the morning.

 

We set out for the temple at sunrise. I figured such an Elven discovery deserved an Elven party, so I asked Sera and Fenris along with Solas. Fenris obliged without much interest, and Sera only became interested when I mentioned there might be some very ancient and valuable treasure involved for her.

Still, it felt good to set out with a group of elves, for once. I had been surrounded by Shems for so long, I’d forgotten what it was like for everyone around me to have long ears.

“Did you have to bring along the two elfiest elves you could find?” Sera asked me as we stopped for a break just before we reached the Temple entrance.

I struggled not to roll my eyes. “You _are_ aware you’re an elf, too, right?” I replied.

She scrunched up her nose. “But not like that, I’m not. At least the boring one knows what he’s about, but the shiny one, he’s so angry, isn’t he? Did you bring them along to make them fight over your honor?” she asked with a giggle.

I looked over my shoulder, ensuring Solas and Fenris were far enough away so as not to hear. “Why would you say something like that?” I chided, but I could feel a heat rising in my cheeks.

She shot me a knowing look. “You don’t think I know what you’re in? You’ve been making sad eyes at Elfy for weeks, and the new one, well, he’s shiny,” she said.

Shiny, indeed.

I hushed her as the other two caught up with us, Fenris eyeing Sera strangely as she continued to giggle under her breath.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

Surprisingly, Solas answered. “Sera often has multiple jokes with herself at any given time. You might well get used to her snickers,” he said.

This only made her laugh harder, and I swore I heard her whisper, “rhymes with knickers.”

Not for the first time, I questioned my choice in bringing her.

“Let’s get in there and figure this place out,” I said, forging my way forward.

The Temple was, of course, a giant puzzle, and within no time we were trudging through dark tunnels, working through puzzles connected to veilfire and fighting down Arcane Horrors. I was finally rewarded for my choices by the group’s obvious battle prowess, and with Sera’s ability to pick locks and Fenris’s strength. Solas elaborated on the ruins as we discovered them, sharing anecdotes he’d picked up from the Fade.

And then, the strangest thing happened. I’d put a little too much force into my final blast at a particularly strong Horror, and fell backward. Fenris rushed over, catching me before I hit the ground and lifting me up with his hand on the small of my back.

“Thanks,” I said, gripping his arms to right myself. In itself it was a small gesture, but there was an obvious familiarity in it. Solas marched forward, suddenly paces ahead of us, and Sera gave me a knowing look.

“It’s not a thing,” I told her forcefully, perhaps more for myself than for her. He must have just seen something very interesting. It couldn’t be jealously just from a touch, could it?

“Inquisitor, come see this,” Solas called out from the darkness. There it was. The return to the cold, aloof Solas.

I trotted ahead to meet him, where he was analyzing a statue. When I crossed the room, I felt a _click_ as I stepped over a moveable stone, and felt the _whoosh_ as a stone wall slammed down behind us.

“What was that?” I shouted. I whirled around to find that we were boxed in to a small room, the only exit the path I just crossed and apparently triggered. I could vaguely hear Sera and Fenris yelling from the other side, but it seemed we were trapped.

Solas didn’t look happy. His brow was creased as he examined the room with veilfire, the glow illuminating a lot of nothing. “What did you do?” he asked, his voice low and gruff.

Ouch. “I’m not sure, Solas, I obviously didn’t do it on purpose. What were you going to show me? Maybe there’s a clue?” I said.

“It’s just a statue of Dirthamen. I haven’t seen his face in…well, there isn’t a lot of art that focuses on his face,” he mumbled clumsily.

Why did I have the feeling he was hiding something?

I moved over to the statue, examining the stone, but there were no clues, only a passage of ancient elven I couldn’t translate. “What does this say?” I asked.

“ _Where you are, I am, too_ ,” he recited

I pressed my back against the wall, frustrated at seeing nothing at all to help us. “What do you think that means?”

“Probably a reference to Falon’Din. They were quite inseparable, apparently,” he answered.

“It sounds more like a love note,” I wondered aloud.

Solas shook his head. “Not everything comes down to romantic emotion. Sometimes relationships are built on more than that,” he quipped.

I wasn’t in the mood for a philosophical argument. It wasn’t like we would every truly know, anyway, the gods had been gone for ages.

“So, what do we do now?” I said.

“I suppose we will have to wait for your new knight in shining Lyrium to come save us,” Solas muttered.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I nearly spat back.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you, the way he touched you. It is fine, there is no need for an explanation. If you would like to pursue a relationship with him, that is your right.”

I couldn’t believe the words were coming out of Solas’s mouth. His expression was so bitter, so angry, so _jealous_.

“First of all, Solas, what I do with my body is none of your business,” I started, but he wouldn’t let me finish.

“No, it isn’t, but I’d say it’s pretty obvious you’ve let him into your bed. And why shouldn’t you? He’s strong, powerful, I’m sure he’s entirely what you need, what…” he trailed off.

I knew what he wanted to say. _What I couldn’t be for you_.

As much as I wanted to be strong, to show him his words didn’t hurt me, tears streamed down my cheeks, and my fists clenched hard of their own accord.

“He’s not what I need. He’s not what I want. The only one I want is—”

My words were cut off as Solas closed the space between us and crushed his lips into mine. I let out a loud moan, not even worried about the echo, and wrapped my hand around his neck, pulling him closer to me.

This kiss was different from before. It was urgent and needy, messy and all-encompassing. He pressed me against the stone wall, his magic overpowering me, flooding me with him. I could feel everything he felt in that moment—the crossroads of his mind and body. It was desperate and passionate and not at all what I thought it would be like.

But I wasn’t going to let him overpower me. I wasn’t going to be fought over, won over by a prick of jealousy. I was no prize.

Reluctantly, I pushed him away, still dazzled by the hungry look in his eyes as he regarded me. “Why did you say such a horrible thing?” I asked.

I expected him to retreat from me like always, but he kept his body against mine, ran his fingers through my hair. “I know you are no trophy for me to fight over, and that I have already hurt you, and I promise you, that was never my intention, but seeing his hands on you, like he had already owned your body, and the way your energy toward him was, it gutted me, Ellana,” he explained.

And I melted right there, just a little. He had never called me by my name before.

“I didn’t take you for the jealous type,” I said, taking his necklace in my hand and stroking it with a finger.

“Because I am not, at least not usually. Everything is different when it comes to you. Every time I am in a room with you I want to be close to you, to touch you, to kiss you…”

“So do it,” I half-dared, “come to my bed. I’m not asking for forever from you, but what I feel, I mean, you must know what I feel,” I said, struggling to find my words.

“I am beginning to think I do not have a choice with you,” he whispered into my ear, the feel of his breath on my skin sending shivers through my body.

I raised my hands to his cheeks, cradling his face, relishing the way he looked at me like a half-starved wolf. He kissed me again, and I let my hands trace their way down his torso, my thumbs trailing over the defined abs he tried so much to hide. He pressed one hand to the small of my back, as though he were claiming it as his, and his other hand slipped through the folds of my robe and brushed against my breast, his thumb circling my nipple gently.

I bit his lip and finally pushed my magic to meet his, so we were equal. Waves of pleasure burst around both our bodies, a halo of shivers and sighs.

All too soon, we heard a _click_ in the distance, and the stone wall began to rise. We backed away from each other, reluctantly, and I tried to assume a neutral position as Fenris and Sera came into view.

Solas had done a better job of it than I had. While I was leaning on the wall in the most conspicuous way possible, he had simply leaned over the statue to analyze the inscription.

“Well, it took us forever, but we figured it out. Shiny did it, really, balanced all the wonky bits. And now we’ve saved you, so you owe us forever,” Sera said.

“Thank you, both of you,” I said. Fenris had an eyebrow arched at me, an amused look on his face, and I realized my robe was partly open and my hair was all over the place.

He turned to Solas. “What does it say?” he asked.

Solas looked at me as he re-read the phrase, “ _Where you are, I am, too_.”

“It’s likely a reference to Falon’Din,” I said quickly, “they were thought to be brothers.”

“And is there a clue there to the rest of the temple?” Fenris asked.

“No,” Solas answered, “we should continue if we want to complete the puzzle before nightfall. It would be unpleasant, to say the least, to make camp in here.”

We continued on to find the last remaining piece, and as soon as she could, Sera whispered in my ear, “Professor snooty pants won your honor, huh? Today, at least. I’ve still got my bets on Shiny as the dark horse.”

I smacked her playfully, and she trotted to be up near the front, a grin on her face.

Every so often, for the rest of the day, I could feel Solas pushing his magic against me, like a reminder, _I am here_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: What I've been waiting to write this whole time!

**Author's Note:**

> Next: Lavellan finds herself pining for a certain Elf.


End file.
